Age of Eight
by BabyCapricorn
Summary: At the age of eight, Miya is far wiser then most children her age. One-shot.


Author's Note- Another one-shot in preparation for my fanfic. It's been a while since I wrote a full out story so this is like practice for me. Please be patient with me. I own no rights to anything.

* * *

_At the age of eight, she was aware that being the chief of police was a busy job. At the age of eight, she had been let down more times then the other children in her class combined. At the age of eight, she knew what it was like to be alone. At the age of eight, she no longer had any tears left to cry._

Sitting on a bench out in front of the school, Miya eagerly kicked her legs as she waited for her dad to pick her up from school. He had promised he would pick her up, and take her to the noodle shop after school. He had missed her acrobatics recital earlier that day, despite promising to be there, so Miya wondered if he would be there to pick her up.

As she sat there Miya watched other children being picked up by their parents one by one. It hurt a bit every time she saw someone she thought was her dad turn out to be another parent there to pick up their children.

"He better be here soon. He promised," she said to herself as she continued to sit there. Eventually all the children were picked up, and teachers began to leave. Some would occasionally stop and give her a concerned glance. Miya paid them no attention as she continued to wait.

_At the age of eight, she had too much faith in her dad keeping promises. _

Minutes turned into hours, and yet Miya continued to wait.

"He'll come," she told herself, although starting to believe otherwise.

The sun was nearly set, and they sky was getting dark when Miya got off the bench and began making the long walk home.

_At the age of eight, she knew all the streets and alleys she could walk through to get to and from school._

Arriving home, Miya was greeted to an empty apartment. Setting her things aside she walked to the kitchen and began getting dinner started.

_At the age of eight, she knew enough recipes to keep her alive and fed. At the age of eight, she was able to clean the entire apartment, and take care of household responsibilities._

The front door opened just as Miya was setting the plates on the table. She looked at her father. He looked exhausted from work.

"Hey, how was your day," Mako asked as he took off his coat, and hung it up.

"It was okay, I guess," she replied, not mentioning the promise that he had made.

Mako walked over to the table, and sat down. He looked at the dinner that his daughter had made.

"It looks good." Miya said nothing as she sat down and began to eat. It was silent for a bit as the two ate.

"So how was your recital?"

"You would know if you had been there."

Mako looked at her for a moment before going back to eating. He knew that she was upset he had missed her recital, and therefore said nothing about her attitude.

There was silence again for moment.

"So, did you start bending today," he asked, looking at her. This was a question that he always asked her since benders usually started bending as children.

"No, not yet. Maybe I'm one of those nonbenders. I guess it's likely to happen when you only have one bender parent. Or if you have two bender parents."

Looking at her father, Miya waited to see if he would tell her. She knew nothing about her mother. Neither her dad nor any of her family would tell her. She didn't know if her mother was a bender or not, what nation she was, or what she looked like. No one would tell her. They had probably promised her dad they wouldn't.

She waited to see if her dad would confirm if her mother was a bender or not. Mako didn't take the bait.

"I'm sure that you'll be able to bend soon and if not, it's fine that you're a nonbender."

Miya nodded her head a bit, wishing that her dad would have told her something about her mom.

_At the age of eight, she had given up ever knowing anything about her mother. _

Miya finished up her dinner before putting her plate in the sink.

"I'm going to go do my homework and go to bed."

"Alright." Mako watched her gather her things before stopping her. "If you ever start bending, you promise you'll tell me, right?"

"Of course dad. I'll tell you."

"Glad to hear that." Mako kissed the top of his daughter's head.

With that she went to her room, and closed the doors. Setting her things down on her desk she sighed a bit. Sitting on her bed, she extended her hand. Fire soon started blazing from her hand, forming a small flame. She stared at the fire for a moment before the fire extinguished itself.

_At the age of eight, she knew that if her dad could lie and keep secrets, then so could she._


End file.
